The Tea Shop
by Tirnel
Summary: A loud obnoxious redhead enters William's tea shop. She doesn't even like tea! Yet she keeps coming back.
1. The Tea Shop

The bells above the door chimed and William glanced up from mopping the counter to see a regular customer, followed by somewhat tall and very loud redhead whom he'd never seen before. "This is the place you've been wanting to take me to?" asked the redhead in a demeaning manner as she looked around. "Not a spot of red anywhere. The owner needs to have words with his decorator," she continued as she followed her friend to a table. "I don't even like tea."

"They have other things besides tea, Grell," answered the friend, or boyfriend, or whatever he was. William honestly didn't care. Othello never mentioned having a significant other, then again, William wasn't accustomed to having such conversations with his customers, even the regulars. It frankly was none of his business. "I'm pretty certain they've started selling those komboo-whatevers, that fermented stuff that you've been talking about trying, on a trial basis.

William glanced up in time again to see the redhead make a grimace at the pigeon patterned cushions on bench seats. "Just get me a Devonshire, if they have it," responded Grell. "I didn't eat breakfast," she elaborated at her friend's raised eyebrows.

"Got it," affirmed Othello, getting up.

"And while you're at it, tell them they should hire a new decorator. Pigeons! Honestly!"

William frowned and adjusted his glasses. He discarded his cloth and called to one of his underlings as Othello approached the counter. "Mind the counter," he instructed before going into the back where his office was located to do some paperwork.

"Morning, Rudger!" greeted Othello when he reached the counter. "Or should I say, Guten morgen?" he added with a wink and a chuckle.

"English is just good," answered Rudger gruffly. "Your usual?" he asked, already adding the order to the register.

"Yes, and my friend will have the Devonshire," answered Othello, getting his money ready so he could pay.

William watched the two friends chatting from the monitor in his office as they took their tea in between his scribbling. The nerve of some people, honestly. He supposed this was one of those 'Karens' the delivery boy Ronald from the bakery his shop partnered with often gossiped about.

A whistle sounded out, drawing William's attention to the door as Eric Slingby entered. "Did ya get a load of what's out front? Think that red hair is real?"

"May I help you, Mr. Slingby?" asked William cooly as he signed a form.

"I was wondering if there was any chance I can get off early Friday afternoon? I might have a hot date that evening."

"If it's in the evening then surely you will be able to work your regular hours without issues."

"Maybe," he sounded a bit disappointed. "Just thought I'd get a little extra time to, ya know, freshen up. Make myself more presentable. Maybe give myself a shave…" Eric rubbed the goatee on his chin thoughtfully.

"Honestly," sighed William. Neither one spoke, one sitting and one standing in what was becoming an awkward silence until Eric spoke again.

"Soooo, that's a 'no' then?"

"Affirmative," replied William. "Work your schedule, Mr. Slingby."

"... He's an old colleague of mine. I think you'll really like him." Othello was speaking excitedly, trying to convince Grell to go out with a friend of his.

"I don't know," replied Grell forlornly as she toyed with her hair.

"Come on, Grell. What harm could it do to at least meet him?... Look, Bassy wasn't worthy of you. You have to get over him eventually. You should have ended it ages ago. You said it yourself. He never loved you and you never loved him either. Not truly. Just his pretty face."

"And that gorgeous body," added Grell, thinking of her past lover. "But you're right. I just… It was such a wonderful farce."

"But it was a farce," Othello but in.

Grell gave him a bit of a scowl for the interruption and continued. "Now it's finally over…I'm a bit sad."

"Well maybe my friend will be a nice change of pace. He's been feeling a bit lonely lately and I think you're just his type."

"Alright," Grell agreed in a whiney tone. "He better be good looking," she added and Othello laughed. Finished with the tea, the two friends said their goodbyes and made their departures.

William emerged from the office once every last strand of red hair was out of sight. Retrieving a feather duster, be began dusting and straightening a shelf full of assorted pigeon statuettes while Rudger bussed the vacated table. "It's slow today," his underling commented dryly.

"Wednesdays usually are," replied William.

A moment later, Rudger cleared his throat and looked over to William. "Mr. Spears," he called. William looked to see him holding up a smallish red velvet purse. William frowned and took it unto the office.

Closing time arrived and the purse remained unclaimed. "Honestly,"sighed William as he turned off the lights. "Such carelessness."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, a frustrated Grell Sutcliff could be seen beating on the shop door and shouting for someone to, "Open up!"

"Umm, excuse me," said Ronald who had been passing by on his way to work. "The tea shop is closed."

"I know that!" snarled the redhead. "I want them to be open!"

"Umm…. Okay," Ronald shrugged and continued down the walk.

"What time do they open?" Grell called to him.

"Not until ten o'clock," answered Ronald, not looking back.

Grell checked her watch and stamped her feet. Nevertheless, she waited, shivering in the brisk morning air until the lights flickered on and opened the door. "About bloody time!" She barked, pushing past him into the warm air of the shop. "Get me your manager. I think I left my purse here yesterday. Red… Hey! Where are you going?!" Grell shouted as William seemingly ignored her as he walked past her to go to the back of the shop. He returned shortly after, carrying the purse by its strap.

"I am the manager," he replied, adjusting his glasses as he handed it to her, "and the owner. Be more careful in the future and I ask you to refrain from anymore comments about my Nan's choice of decor." Grell pursed her lips, eyeing him up as she tried to think of a witty reply. "Now," continued William, "is there anything else I can do for you?"

Grell gave it a moment of thought and answered, "Yes. I'll have a cup. On the house. For making me stand out in the cold for so long."

"It will be £1.30. Our hours are posted clearly on the door. However as you 'don't even like tea', I suggest you try somewhere else."

"I never!" gasped Grell. "This is the last you'll ever see of my face in this ridiculous shop!" Grell swiveled around angrily and marched out of the shop.

William prided himself on providing the best customer service possible, however, this redhead was not the sort of customer he cared for having in his shop. However attractive they may be.

"I don't know," said the silver haired man slowly as he stared closely at the picture in his hands from behind the long fringe that fell over his eyes. William never understood how he could see anything through it. The man was a patron who used to frequent the shop, but in recent years, his visits were sporadic at best. In all the years he'd been coming, William had never learned a proper name to call him. "I've never had much luck with redhead," he said and William couldn't help but wonder if he and Othello were talking about the same redhead he was thinking of.

"You're lonely, she's lonely...if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out, but at least you'll get a good bedding out of it." William glanced over at Othello and his mysterious colleague. He gave a disapproving frown and resumed his work. Honestly. Talking about such things in his shop. What would his nan say?

"Good in bed, you say?" said the older man thoughtfully and looking at the picture with more consideration. He suddenly turned and looked at William while wearing the broadest of grins. Then he whispered something to Othello and laughed, a laugh that always sounded strange to William. Othello started to laugh, but seemed to remember his manners and settled for an awkward smile at what the other had said. The elder raised his cup towards William. "Cheers, Willy!" he cried.

Such an odd individual, William thought.

The bells chimed and the son of the owner of a nearby bakery entered, going straight to the counter. "Good morning, Mr. Spears."

"Humphries," he returned in his usual manner." May I help you?"

"Darjeeling and a cone, please," replied the young, sickly man. He glanced behind the counter to where Eric was working. His eyes averted quickly, as a blush lit up his cheeks.

"You're not Slingby's hot date, are you?" asked William quietly.

"He said that?!" Alan Humphries cheeks now burned with anger as he looked angrily over at Eric.

"Said what?"

"'Hot date'?"

"Nah, I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what then?"

"Like nothing," Eric fumbled for an answer. Alan took his order and stormed out of the shop, leaving Eric to look at William hopelessly.


	3. Chapter 3

?

I deeply apologize. I thought the break in my writing was a chapter break, but it was really where I had left off and had continued in another notebook (as I'd forgotten my writing book at home) before coming back to it. So here is that last scene in full. Again I apologize.

-—-

The bells chimed and the son of the owner of a nearby bakery entered, going straight to the counter. "Good morning, Mr. Spears."

"Humphries," he returned in his usual manner." May I help you?"

"Darjeeling and a scone, please," replied the young, sickly man. He glanced behind the counter to where Eric was working. His eyes averted quickly, as a blush lit up his cheeks.

"You're not Slingby's hot date, are you?" asked William quietly.

"He said that?!" Alan Humphries cheeks now burned with anger as he looked angrily over at Eric.

"Said what?"

"'Hot date'?"

"Nah, I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what then?"

"Like nothing," Eric fumbled for an answer. "I mean, I find you attractive. You're making it sound like I was meaning something bad by it."

"Yeah? Well don't make it sound like I'm some floozy. In fact, don't talk about me at all."

"I didn't mention any names and it was only to the boss here," Eric jabbed a thumb towards William. "Who's he gonna tell? I was trying to get permission to leave work early for our date."

"Well you don't have to worry about that now, do you?" Alan seethed. "Cancel my order," he said to William and marched out of the shop, leaving a distraught Eric calling after him, but Alan didn't stop. Eric turned and gaped at William.

"What'd you go and do that for?"

"William adjusted his glasses." I was making polite conversation with customers as you suggested."

"Yes! But that was the wrong sort of conversation!" William continued to give him a blank look, unsure what he did wrong, causing Eric to growl in frustration and go back to work feverishly.

Another form complete, William set it aside. He was about to start another when a customer entering the shop caught his eyes on the security monitor and he nearly dropped his pen. To his surprise, after swearing never to return, the redhead was once again in his shop. Not only that, but she was, as Knox would describe it: dressed to impress. Her hair was done up prettily and her red spaghetti strap dress was very form fitting and very short with matching stilettos. She placed her order at the counter and took a seat. She waited several minutes before being joined by the regular Othello had met with the previous week.

William attempted to go back to his work, but his eyes kept straying to the screen, watching the two interact. Come to think of it, his pigeons could use a dusting, he thought, laying down his pen.

"I must say," William heard the elder say to the redhead, "pictures don't do you justice, dearie."

"He showed you my picture?" Grell replied with a gasp. "The scoundrel! One of my least flattering, no doubt and he'd do that sort of thing too."

He was not eavesdropping, William told himself. That the redhead had such a large mouth was no fault of his. An almost maniacal sounding giggle erupted from the redhead's lips at something the elder had said that William didn't catch. Annoying, disturbing…yet… enjoyable. William shook his head. Nonsense.

"Do you come here often?" the silver haired man asked.

"No," answered Grell, "but I might have a reason to now." William glanced over at her to see her wearing a broad smile. Her eyes briefly caught his and she whispered something to her companion who replied in a similarly hushed town, but William caught the words "stick in the mud" and the two shared another laugh. The elder turned and flashed William a grin before whispering to Grell some more. "Nonsense," she answered with a wave of her hand and her nose stuck in the air.

"A fine joke, that is," he cackled.

Grell didn't laugh and neither did William. He didn't think it was funny. Even though he could not hear what was said, it was obvious what had been said had been about him, and he did not fancy jokes at his expense.

William's eyes were drawn to another table, one in a corner. Slingby and Humphries appeared to have work out their squabble as Humphries sat in his seat with his scone and ignoring the book sat beside him on the table as he and Slingby flirted with one another and conversed quietly amongst themselves.

"Slingby," William said sharply. "This is a tea shop, not a dating service. Get back to work." Slingby grumbled something and slunk back to the counter.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite having sworn off the tea shop, the red menace became a frequent patron. Her meeting with the elder patron seemingly having gone well and they seemed to have agreed to meet there often. However, sometimes, he would join her and sometimes he would not, leaving her to pout alone at their usual table. If Othello happened to be with her, he would attempt to console her. If not, she would slouch back in her seat and sulk or rest her chin in her hand with her elbow on the table and stare out the window until it was quite clear to her he had stood her up and she take her leave.

This day was one of those days. He did not show up and Grell sat with her chin in her hand, gazing bleakly out the window at the drizzling rain as she mindlessly stirred her drink. The days gloomy weather seemed to be affecting everyone. William had been feeling it too. He rationalized that was the reason he empathized with her that day and he placed a fresh cup of tea in front of her, giving her a start. "Try this," he said, "On the house."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's supposed to help with one's mood."

"Thank you," Grell murmured, clearly taken aback by his gesture. "Care to join me?" she asked suddenly as he began to walk away.

"I would not," he replied brusquely. "I have work to do."

"You're the owner," she countered, "and besides, the shop is empty besides me. Look, I'm sorry for what I said about your Nan's decorating," she added hastily as he continued to walk away. She smiled when he paused. "It's quite charming actually when you get used to it. In fact, I've come to quite like it here."

"Despite not liking tea?"

She looked abashed. "Despite that. It's more the atmosphere, really."

"Or a certain customer."

She blushed. "Him too, but it really is the atmosphere. He's an interesting man, don't you think? Laughs a bit too much, though," she ended, almost as if talking to herself as she sipped her tea.

William found himself making a cup of his preferred blend and sitting down across from Grell. "Speaking of relationships," began Grell slowly after a few moments of awkward silence, "I never see Mrs. Spears in here."

"I haven't seen my mother since I was very young," William replied coldly.

"Oh," said Grell, taken aback. "I meant… You know.."

"I'm not married," William clarified, "nor do I have a significant other, not that it's any of your business."

"Oh… Seems lonely."

"I have my birds."

"Birds?"

"Pigeons."

Grell nearly spat out her tea with laughter. "Pigeons?! What is your family obsession with pigeons?" William frowned. "Oh, don't look so cross," Grell went on, "I wasn't making fun on purpose. It's just such an odd choice!"

"We all have our own oddities, do we not?" William asked tensely.

"I suppose so," answered Grell. "Come to think of it, my boyfriend is very odd."

"I thought you said he was interesting." Boyfriend? Had they progressed that tfar in their relationship? Not that it was his business.

Grell waved her hand dismissively. "A man can be both. For instance, he introduced himself as 'Undertaker'. What sort of name is that? A very strange thing to call yourself after a profession. Wasn't some wrestler across the pond called something like that?"

"I don't follow wrestling."

"Not me much either, but some of my friends are into it."

The two sat together and chatted a little while longer, Grell doing most of the talking. It was a slow day, as Wednesdays often were and William did not realize how much time had passed until another customer entered the shop. Grell gave him a small smile and a wave as he went to go wait on the new customer, her mood was much improved. She wasn't so sure it was the tea's doing either, as she left some money on the table and left shortly after.

The lovebirds were sitting in their usual booth, side by side this time. The silver haired man had his arm draped around the redhead's shoulders, holding her close to him while they giggled and flirted together. William watched with a frown as Grell teased her boyfriend with a biscuit, putting it close to his lips then pulling it away before he could bite it. Finally, Undertaker groped her, distracting her enough so he could snatch the biscuit.

"Dirty move," she chastised, though her tone wasn't serious. Undertaker simply finned and took a bite of the biscuit. William turned his back on them at this point and busied himself with other things.

Undertaker leaned close and said in a low voice, "Dirty, am I? I'll show you dirty, dearie." He gave a low chuckle and kissed her neck. Grell gave a soft squeak and bit her lip as he aroused her. Her face grew hot and flushed and she tried to act naturally even as he slipped a hand into her blouse and teased a nipple.

"You dirty, dirty man," she hissed. "What if someone sees?" It was hard not to moan as he pinched and teased the nipple. In truth, she found it all thrilling at first. The longer he continued, the more aroused she became. Even as bold and impudent as she could be, she wouldn't dare bend her boyfriend over the café table, not when she knew she wouldn't get away with it.

Undertaker captured her lips with his, probing her mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile, he draped her red coat over her lap and snaked his hand underneath and up her skirt. She gasped, feeling his hand on her intimate of intimates, but went along with it,quickly glancing about to see if anyone had noticed. "Someone's randy," he laughed in her ear.

"I wonder whose fault that is," she replied through gritted teeth, squeezing her eyes shut and doing all she could not to moan and move her hips in tandem with his hand. "Oh, I want to bend you over this table so badly."

"Restraint, dearie. We can do that at home later. We don't want starchy britches to toss us out. We might not be allowed back. Gehehe~."

At the mention of William, she opened one eye and looked for him. She spotted him behind the counter with his back to them. Her thrill turned to unease. She felt uncomfortable and ashamed, but before she could act, she released into his hand, biting her fist and whimpering.

Grell grabbed a handful of napkins off the table and hastened the removal of Undertaker's hand, using the napkins to clean the cum from it. He gave her a pouty frown. He'd wanted to lick it clean, she knew. "Later, darling," she whispered in effort to mollify him. She gave William's back another glance and disposed of the dirty napkins in her handbag just as he turned around. "I've just remembered I have a hair appointment," she said hurriedly, getting up from the table. "See you at my place tonight?" She gave Undertaker a quick kiss and was out the door before he could respond.

"Redheads," he grumbled, licking his fingers to see if any cum remained. He was disappointed.


	5. Chapter 5

William rarely took days off and this was one of those rare days as he sat on a park bench and tossed feed to the pigeons. A curtain of red suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision and he looked to see Grell bending over the bench to smile at him. "Fancy meeting you here," she said brightly. "And here I thought London was a large place, but it is a small world after all." She wore a large brimmed hat and a red sundress in the midspring afternoon. "I scarcely recognized you without your hair all slicked back," she went on. "I like it this way. It makes you look less stiff and humorless."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Grell came around the bench and sat down on it beside him. "Pigeons again!" She remarked merrily, seeing the flock gathered at his feet. "I saw a picture of some rather colorful ones awhile ago. Very vibrant and pretty. Somewhere in South America, I think it was. Racing pigeons, I believe."

"Cuba," corrected William. "And they aren't naturally colored that way. They're dyed so they stand out while racing. I wouldn't mind a pair, however, I wouldn't want to deprive them of their home to satisfy my own vanities."

"Has anyone ever told you that you speak like someone from a century ago?" Grell asked playfully. William's brow furrowed. "I like it. It makes you more interesting and not as boring as you seem."

"You think I'm boring?"

"I'm not sure what I think at the moment, but you certainly did give off that vibe at first." William didn't quite know how to respond to that. "However, I'm starting to think there may be more under that cold exterior than people think."

"There really isn't. I may be being forward, I'm told I'm a bit dense when it comes to this sort of thing, but are you flirting with me?" Grell let out a barking laugh. "Would your boyfriend approve?"

"Don't kid yourself, darling, and he doesn't mind. He knows what an insatiable flirt I am. It rarely means anything. If it did, you'd know."

"Are you waiting for him here?"

"Undertaker? No, no. He is in his basement obsessing over his dolls and I just couldn't resist staying inside on such a lovely day."

"Dolls?"

"He's got this strange hobby. He's obsessed with these dolls. They're life size, human like, creepy things. Nightmare fuel, really."

"That does sound very odd."

"That's just one of his own oddities," she said with a smile to him.

"Touché," William responded. The birds had finished off the last of the feed at this point. Lovely day it may be, currently, however, William expected there to be rain later. And the weather being as unpredictable as it is, he decided to get up and head for shelter. Home, or perhaps his favorite fish and chips shop.

"You're leaving?" She asked.

"And you should too before it rains."

"Oh, tosh. It isn't going to rain," she replied dismissively before looking up at the sky and scrutinized it, looking for any clouds threatening rain.

"Suit yourself."

"You're going home then?"

"Actually, I was thinking of some fish and chips...would you care for some?" he added with some hesitance.

"Is Mr. Manager asking me on a date?" she responded coyly, and William thought he heard a hint of what sounded like seduction in her voice.

"Nothing of the sort. Come or don't come.it matters not," William replied coldly before starting to leave, Grell sprang up from her seat and latched onto his arm. William briefly tried to shake her off, but she held tight and he quick;y gave up.

"It occurs to me," said she, "that we've not been properly introduced, Grell sutcliff."

"William T. Spears," William replied curtly. It would have been rude not to reply. "You've not been by the shop recently."

"You noticed," she remarked.

"You make it hard not to notice you," he said. "I wondered, perhaps, if the two of you had ended your relationship. Clearly you haven't/"

"Why, you almost sound disappointed, my darling Will."

"I'm not your darling and you're reading too much into what I'm saying. Why have you stopped coming then? I am merely curious, Was it our service? Was it lacking?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" she replied with a gasp. "Undertaker and I simply just wanted to try some other places. A change in scenery, if you will. We'll probably be back, eventually," She half lied, twirling a lock of hair with her finger. Of course she wasn't going to tell him the truth. The truth that she felt guilty and somewhat dirty after what they had done to his Nan's teashop. She refused to step foot back in there out of shame and had been convincing Undertaker to go elsewhere. Though, she did miss the little teashop. Today was going well and she was enjoying her walk with William. Perhaps she could revisit soon.

Raindrops began falling from the sky and William opened his umbrella and held it over the both of them as they walked along. They pressed closer together to fit under it. William didn't mind her clinging so much now.

Grell sat curled up in a chair. She turned off the soap opera she had been watching, being bored with it, and glared in the direction of the basement door. She got up, Undertaker's pink sweater falling to her knees, and went to the door, but no further. The low lit room with all the creepy faces spooked her too much. "Darling," she called sweety, "Let's go out. We haven't been anywhere together in days." Or longer. She had lost track. He spent more and more time down there. She wasn't even sure the last time they'd had sex.

Either he didn't hear her or he was ignoring her. She knew he was down there as she could faintly hear him talking to his dolls. Grell let out a frustrated growl and yanked off the sweater, tossing it in the chair as she passed it to go put on some proper clothes. A shopping trip was what she needed. She had seen some lovely boots in a window the other day and while she couldn't afford them, Undertaker could. She tucked his credit card in her purse before leaving the house.

Whilst wandering about her favorite haunts, an antique store caught her eye. The number forty-six was etched above the door. She shrugged and went in. Dust collectors filled every section of the closely placed shelves. There was a selection of old dolls near the door and she quickly passed it, going deeper into the shop.

Grell was perusing a particular shelf of assorted knicknacks when a man in a tophat and bowtie came up to her. He had a tattoo of a fleur de lis under one eye. "I thought to myself, you must be searching for a special present for a very special person. Is there something I can help you to find?"

"Err...no thanks," Grell returned with a grimacing smile to the man with his soft, stilted way of speaking and equally stilted movements. "I'm just browsing, thank you." And she scurried off to a different set of shelves. She was about to call it quits and move on to another store when something caught her eye. She hesitated as she thought of how it might be considered inappropriate, but he had paid for her meal as she'd left her pocket money at home. If anything, it could be seen as a gift of friendship. At the very least, a "thank you". Grell took it to the counter. "I'll have them git wrapped, please." The gift was soon tucked safely away in her purse.

Finished with her shopping, she returned to Undertaker's house. Maybe, she thought, he had finished playing with his dolls and was waiting for her to come home. Grell hurried inside and set her shopping bags down. "I'm home ~," she announced in a singsong voice. There was no answer. Going to the basement door, Grell could hear him faintly singing some song she could not make for out the words to. She sighed and dejectedly sat back down in the chair. Clicking the remote, Grell back on the television set.


	6. Chapter 6

William repressed any positive emotions he felt upon seeing her walk through the door that morning. It was nonsensical and irrational to feel that way. Especially about someone in a relationship. He hated that he had sort of maybe missed her…a little. "Hello, Will-darling," she greeted, sauntering up to the counter.

"I'll ask you not to address me so informally, Sutcliff. And I'm not your darling."

Her body tingled at his cold manner. "Oh, I call everyone 'darling'. You mustn't take it personally," she tried to laugh it off.

"May I take your order?" William asked, unamused.

"Oh, I don't have time to order anything today," she replied, reaching into her purse. "I just stopped in to give you this." Grell handed over the small gift. William opened it to reveal a pair of two small pigeon figurines. "They're antique bronze from Bali. I was out shopping and thought you could add them to your collection. I wanted to thank you for lunch the other day."

William eyed the pigeons admirably. "It was unnecessary," he said. "You could have simply repaid the money." The shelf where he kept his figurines was already rather full, so he found a place for them to nestle beside the register.

"This way is better," she smiled back at him. "I enjoyed myself the other day and wanted to give you something you'd enjoy."

"Thank you...I suppose," William muttered. Grell simply continued to smile happily back at him until she noticed the time.

"Goodness! I'm going to be late for work! Bye!" She waved at him as she ran out the door.

William checked the check in slips and then the time. Slingby was a no call/no show yet again. He tried calling Slingby's number, but it had been disconnected or changed according to the automated voice on the other end. Well then, if Slingby did not make an appearance by the end of the week, it would be the end of his employment there. William thought that was more than generous. In the meantime, he needed to fill his position.

Just then, Ronald Knox came in with a delivery. A delivery boy could easily be replaced. "Knox," called William, "after you finish, comb your hair and put on an apron." He pointed to a spare hanging on a peg. "You're being promoted."

It was time to open and William promptly turned on the lights in the front and unlocked the door. Among the customers that soon entered were Undertaker and Grell. She gave William a little wave and a smile as they went to their usual booth. However, it was already occupied and Grell had to persuade Undertaker to find somewhere else to sit while she went to place their order.

"I see you managed to get him out of the basement," William attempted to make conversation.

"We had a huge fight about it," she casually replied. "I won't be second place to a hobby. Besides, he has to check in on his business at some point, which we'll do when we're done here. Ah… The usual, please." Undertaker was staring at them impatiently from the table he'd chosen. Grell quickly finished with their order and joined him. Then he gave William a rather unpleasant look. William took it as a sign that Undertaker wasn't as forgiving of her flirtatious nature as Grell believed.

The following Wednesday, there still wasn't any sign of Slingby, however, there was sign of a certain redhead who showed up alone. Expecting her to be stood up again, he prepared her the same tea as he had months ago. But when he brought her the cup, she didn't seem gloomy at all. "Oh, how thoughtful," she said cheerily as he set down the cup in front of her, "but I already placed my order. Thank you, darling."

"I'm not your darling," replied William. "Where _is_ your darling? In the basement again?"

"Oh, no, he went to the shop."

"Yes, you mentioned he had a business. A shop? What sort?"

"A beauty parlor, believe it or not, called 'Drop Dead Gorgeous'."

"And you? What do you do?"

"I've been working there part time since I lost my previous job."

"What was your previous job?"

"I was personal assistant to someone, I'm not allowed to say _who_, who worked for the Phantom company."

"As in boy millionaire Ciel Phantomhive?"

"Yes, but not for him, but someone associated with him."

"What happened there?"

"It's complicated, and I really cannot talk about it, but it was partly my fault."

"So now you work for your boyfriend."

"Until I can find something else."

"What do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure. I kind of just want to be a housewife. Othello thinks I should go into mechanical engineering or something like that."

"Othello. He hasn't been coming in lately either."

"He's a scientist. He's been working on some big secret project and it's been keeping him busy." William didn't know when he'd sat down or when Knx had delivered the order, but he wasn't thinking of such things just now. "Did you know," Grell asked, "that a pigeon needs to beat its wings ever forty-three seconds?"

"That's a swallow," replied William.

"Oh," she sounded disappointed that she'd gotten her facts wrong.

"You've been studying about pigeons?"

"I saw a documentary on birds recently," she answered sheepishly.

"I see."

"Next time I go to the library, I might see if they have any books about pigeons," she said quickly, sensing his disappointment. "I'm anxious to know why you find them so fascinating. I need a good diversion anyway."

Grell looked up from stirring her tea, gazing into William's eyes. He stared back, lost in her own green eyes.

"Boss!" Ronald's voice snapped them from their trance as he slapped a newspaper onto the table. "Check out this story!"

William looked annoyed at the interruption, but pulled the paper to him as Ronald pointed out which article.

**A Lover's Pact**

**Two male bodies were found yesterday in what is to believed, at this time, to be a murder/suicide. The two men have been identified as Eric Slingby (32) and Alan Humphries (25). Evidence indicates the two were lovers. Authorities were investigating the disappearance of Humphries after his parents reported him missing last week. He was last seen the morning before he left for a doctor's appointment and is reported to have had several health issues. While these health issues may have been contributing factors in his recent death, the wounds found on his body suggest something far more sinister…"**

William stopped reading and set the paper down. "And they were such a cute couple too," said Grell sadly after she skimmed over the article with a shake of her head.

"Slingby was a decent worker when he put his mind to it," said William. "I must send my condolences to the Humphries family. I only hope Slingby's actions in the death of their son does not put the tea shop in a bad light. I would hate to lose a good partnership over this."

Grell and Ronald looked at him aghast. "So cold," Grell mumbled.

"What's done is done," continued William. "I feel for the Humphries family, however, I have a business to run and I don't want whatever foolish decisions Slingby made to affect my business."

"I see your point," said Grell pragmatically. Ronald's look of shock diverted to Grell now. He walked away, shaking his head in disbelief. He could see William's point as well, but one does not voice such things aloud. How could his boss be so callous?

Grell and Undertaker visited the shop sporadically over the next several weeks. Occasionally Grell would come in on her own, always on a wednesday to ensure William would have time to talk to her.

William was confused. Taking an interest however mild, in something other than his pigeons was unusual. Even if, on the slightest chance, he were to have any deeper feelings for the redhead, he couldn't have her. Even if she didn't belong to Undertaker, he wouldn't have the gall to ask her. She wouldn't be interested in him. Besides, she was loud, obnoxious, and not the sort of person he thought his nan would approve of. He could hear her now, remarking on Grell's promiscuity. From his talks with Grell, he knew she and Undertaker were practically living together and she'd remarked more than once on their sex life.

He looked up from his paperwork to his monitor and there she was. She was by herself. His paperwork could wait, he decided, going out onto the floor. He had just made it to the counter when Undertaker entered and joined her. On second thought, the paperwork couldn't wait, he decided and he returned to his office. William turned off the monitor and continued to do so every time from then on on the days Grell wasn't alone.

"What's your favorite food?" Grell asked the next time William was able to join her. "Your guilty pleasure."

"You already know the answer to that. Fish and chips. It's not exactly the healthiest thing, but…"

"Oh, I know!" she exclaimed. "I _love_ pasta, but there are so many carbs! And before you suggest veggie pasta, the type made out of zucchini and stuff, it just isn't the same. Add a nice bottle of wine and some candles and it's the perfect dinner date. Positively romantic," Grell said all this flamboyantly, but then it seemed to William a light in her faded. A small pout had formed on her lips and she took a sip of her tea.

"Is he not very romantic?" asked William. Neither was he, but that was beside the point.

"He _used_ to be. Now it's like pulling teeth to get him to take me out on a date or even just a quick fuck. All he thinks about are those damned dolls!" she unloaded on him. "And would it hurt to put some air freshener in that man cave of his? It stinks! Sometimes I can smell it in the living room."

"You're unhappy?" William tried not to sound happy at this.

"I- I don't know. Frustrated is more like it. Not having sex for long periods of time can make you go mad," she said with eyes wide, reminding William of a crazed person. "I almost sought out Bassy the other day, I was so horny. A person's own hands and toys can only do so much, you know."

William could feel his face flush as he tried not to think of her in that situation. "Bassy?" he managed to say.

"The brat's butler bodyguard, or whatever he is. We broke up during the whole debacle that ended with me out of a job. He was a total ass, but the sex was to die for. Finally, I came to my senses. As my friends always say, 'don't stick your dick in crazy'. Not that he would have taken me if I had gone to him the other day, not without beating me black and blue first, in any case."

"He was abusive."

"So was I. I asked for it, most of the time. But when he starts to hit you for the hell of it, that's going a bit too far."

"I don't see how someone can claim to love someone and then hit them unjustly and for no reason."

Grell laughed. "Bassy never _claimed_ to love me! He wouldn't dare! He only ever saw me as a _thing_. Heaven knows whatever I saw in him!" Then she sighed. "I hate being alone. Though I may as well be now, but Undertaker can be so charming and is quite the looker under all that hair of his. And it's not exactly like I have options." Their eyes met, the last statement lingering in the air. William tried to distinguish the expression in her eyes and the meaning of those words.

"Sorry I'm late, dearie." Grell jumped at the sound of Undertaker's creaky voice.

"Darling," greeted Grell, "I wasn't expecting you. What about your dolls? I know you like spending time with them. A man should have time to enjoy his hobbies."

Undertaker grinned in reply. "My children don't need me anymore today. I've perfected them."

"Oh, well…"

"I should be getting to work," said William, getting up.

Sometime later, Ronald entered his office carrying a purse. "Not exactly your color, is it, Knox?"

"No, That redhead friend of yours with the creepy old dude left it behind," answered Knox.

"Just leave it here. She'll be back for it eventually."

Knox did so, eager to get back and continue flirting and showing off his new watch to a cute blonde who had come in.

Rudger had taken over the counter since Knox was busy when Grell came back in. "I have an interview with Mr. Spears," she said flirtatiously.

"Mr. Spears did not tell me you were expected."

"Mr. Spears does not tell you everything. Besides, the whole thing was so last minute. He said this place could use a woman's touch." Without waiting for a reply, she went behind the counter. It wasn't hard to guess which door led to the office and she was going inside it before Rudger to stop her. William was on his feet as soon as she entered. "I forgot my purse," she said.

"Are you going to insult my office decor now?"

Grell laughed a little and looked down, slightly embarrassed by her behavior that day. "I'm fond of him, but I can't say that I love him," she said after a few moments of awkward silence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You were going to ask me earlier if I love him. And least, it seemed so and that's my answer." William was standing directly in front of her.

"You left your purse here on purpose just so you could tell me that," it was more of a statement than a question and the guilty look on her face told all. They were in each other's arms, kissing passionately. She was all over William as she filled him with a burning desire for her. If he had not more restraint, he would have taken her right then, however, William had not completely lost his senses.

After taking a moment to comb his hair and straighten his tie, William walked her to the front with her phone number tucked in his pocket. "How was her interview?" Rudger asked when she left.

"She got the job," William answered slowly.

End

(Epilogue to come)


	7. Epilogue

This was something that popped into my head as I was forming the ending of tea shop. You can count it as cannon of this story or not, but it was fun to write and I hope you at least enjoy reading it.

oOo

William relaxed in bed with Grell entangled in his arms, her head resting in his chest. He was hers. But was she his? "Did you tell him?" he asked. Stupidly, he had not asked before falling into bed with her, given to lust and desire to learn all the secret places on her body that made her writhe with passion, but he couldn't help himself.

She raised her head and looked at him. "Of course, darling. He took it much better than I thought he would. I admit I lost my temper a bit at his indifference to the whole thing. I thought if he loved me at all, he would be at least a little distraught. So I told him, if he loves his dolls more than me, he can fuck them intstead. I'm done. Do you know what he said? 'Take care'. Waving at me and grinning like an idiot. I don't think we can be friends in the future." William ran his hand idly along her back and made an indiscernable grunt in response, relaxing back underneath her naked body, her soft skin against his." I probably don't have a job anymore," she laughed.

"We'll figure something out," said William.

Thump

"Did you hear something?"

"Just your heart."

ThumpThump

"That's not my heart."

"A tree branch or something then."

"I don't think so."

Thump

"One of your birds got out then," Grell suggested, loathe for either one of them to get up.

"If it is, then I should go check on it and return it to its coop. What if more than one got out?" He pulled on his striped pajamas. Grell followed him out of bed, pulling on her lace red panties and one of William's white button up shirts for work and followed him downstairs.

Thump

The sound was louder downstairs and coming from outside. "Help me look for the torch," said William, turning on the kitchen light.

Grell folded her arms, still grumpy at having to get up and looked out the window. There was sort of a shuffling sound outside it and she moved closer. A snarling face, pale and twisted appeared on the other side. Its flesh was rotting and a dark blindfold covered its eyes.

"What the fuck!" Grell shouted, backing away as it beat on the glass. William looked unbelieving at what appeared to be a living corpse trying to get at them through the window. Grell had moved to his side, clinging to his arm.

"That's not a pigeon," commented William.

"It's one of Undertaker's dolls," input Grell, shivers going down her spine. "I knew there was something I didn't like about them."

"They're not dolls, they're zombies."

"Othello did mention they used to work together many years ago at the same institution, but he was let go due to questionable practices."

"If this is what he was doing, then I can see why."

"What do we do?"

"How many are we dealing with?"

Grell shook her head. "There were several in the basement, but I never counted. I only saw the one out there, but who knows how many of those things he has."

"We need a way to defend ourselves."

"I saw a garden shed outside."

"You want to hoe them to death?"

"There may be something in there we can use."

"Fine. Stay put. I'll go look."

"Like hell I'm staying here alone while you go out there. I'm coming with you."

William relented and they slipped on their shoes. He cracked open the front door, making sure the coast was clear before sneaking out. There was more than one doll, but they didn't seem to notice Grell and William. The ground was soft and wet as they stole across the lawn towards the shed. Grell cursed softly as her heels, more than once, stuck in the grass. The pair had been noticed. The dolls made terrible noises in their throats as they shambled towards the couple.

Grell and William made it to the shed and barred the door as best they could before looking around. William found a long handled pruner and small old scythe for backup. Grell looked around, struggling to find anything. She briefly considered the lawnmower, but that was too absurd. Then her eyes fell upon the shiny red chainsaw and her eyes gleamed with delight. She picked it up and started it. "The perfect thing for zombie heads!" She said over the noise. William rolled his eyes. "Ready, darling?"

William nodded, holding the pruner ready while Grell disbarred the door. They lept out from the shed, blades piercing zombie flesh. William's pruner stabbed the skull of one while Grell's chainsaw shredded through the neck of another, sawing off its head. She laughed maniacally as it's blood splattered onto William's white shirt.

"I would thank you not to get their filth on my clothes," chastised William.

"Too late, darling. I'll see what the cleaners can do with it in the morning."

"If we survive till then," added William, facing the horde that awaited them. Grell took his hand in hers and gave him a reassuring smile. He adjusted his glasses with the edge of his pruner. "Honestly," he sighed.


End file.
